Harbour
by Atthla
Summary: They were twenty-four and ambitions, want, responsibilities got in the way. Tamaki x Kyouya, Hikaru x Kaoru
1. Chapter 1

**Harbour**

**Author: Atthla**

**Disclaimer:** Nope, not mine. Bisco Hatori owns all these pretty boys.

**Pairings:** The main one is Tamaki/Kyouya. Others will be Hikaru/Kaoru with a hint of threesome. You'll know what I mean later.

**Warning:** Isn't it obvious already that this fic contains male/male relationships? OOC-ness may be expected since this is my first try in this fandom, but considering that they are older in this story, developments in personality also are an integral part, as well as unavoidable. And since this is an angst fic, the portrayal of the characters may be darker. Oh, and some spoilers to possibly all episodes of Ouran High School Host Club anime.

**Summary:** They were twenty-four and ambitions, want, responsibilities got in the way.

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**Chapter One: The Egoist **

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"You said what?"

It was those violet eyes, burning, alight with something unfamiliar Kyouya had rarely seen in his friend's eyes.

His best friend. His only friend. His lord. His king. His lover. His greatest sin. His greatest joy. His greatest weakness. His entire world. Hell, Tamaki was his everything and there was no use denying that.

"I'm not going to repeat it," he stated blankly.

Tamaki opened his mouth only to close it again and then open it again. The process was repeated a few times, but not a word broke the infinite silence. Kyouya inhaled a slightly shaky breath, reminding himself of the purpose of this conversation, and once more prepared himself to face the music.

"I feel that it is my obligation to inform you about this first before you find out from some other party," he said, keeping his voice firm and aloof while carefully watching the other man's eyes going steadily darker. "My father will announce it tomorrow night along with–"

"Why?"

Kyouya narrowed his eyes, not only because Tamaki had cut his explanation, but also because of the question itself. Of course they both knew _why_. They had been living as the sole heir of the Suou and the third son of the Ootori far too long to remain ignorant that some things just could not be. Either Tamaki refused to acknowledge that or he was simply trying to be difficult, Kyouya couldn't decide.

"What we have been doing is folly, Tamaki," he started, ignoring the fact that his insides were growing cold with each word. "You know it can never work. It was a mistake, a thoughtlessness we started during High School, but now we are twenty-four and–"

"That's bullshit," Tamaki snarled, his eyes almost glowing in the darkening room, and Kyouya had to raise his eyebrows at this unusual word his friend used. "You love me, Kyouya. Do you think I don't know that?"

Oh. So that was the trump card, wasn't it? But this was his room, his dominion. He was invincible here. Tamaki had no right to trample everything he had built, _everything_ he had built, _everything_ he had prepared for this day to come. This was what he had lived for and this man, this overdramatic, flirtatious former Host Club King, had no right to–

Kyouya almost laughed.

Who was he kidding? It was true that sweet words had always been Tamaki's forte and fault, but Kyouya recognized sincerity when he was faced with one. That doubt had long gone, swept away by the realization that they were risking so much by engaging themselves in this kind of relationship. Tamaki had never said anything about it, only smiled at him and said with his usual airiness but a pair of eyes too serious to Kyouya's liking, "_Because Daddy needs Mommy so much that it hurts."_

He frowned. No use in remembering that now. He had made a decision, one that didn't concern Suou Tamaki in any way above business partners. Love didn't, shouldn't, mustn't exist in his immaculate, strictly profit-oriented world.

"You are always spluttering nonsense," he finally said, painfully aware that his voice sounded too thin, that the bundle of control was slipping quickly from his grasp in front of Tamaki's angry violet eyes.

"Because they are not nonsense," the taller man snapped at him. "I may be stupid, Kyouya, but I know you love me and I'll be damned if it isn't love we're speaking about here."

"This isn't about love," Kyouya growled, his hands clenching into two angry fists. _He_ just had to make everything harder, didn't he?

An ugly sneer made its presence known on Tamaki's face. "It isn't? What then? Your ambitions? You want to throw away all–"

"I'm an egoist! Didn't you know that already?" Kyouya heard himself shouting, felt his body shaking with rage, a burning desperation. Because he wanted everything and Tamaki, despite everything else, was his everything. But his goal, that one ultimate bane of his life, still meant more than everything and this was the choice he had made.

"But why?" the other man's voice crumbled into a whisper before rising once more, even louder than before. "You've never minded before! Everything was fine between us!"

"My father wants me to succeed him."

And that was that. There was no other explanation he could give that Tamaki would understand better. The silence that followed was cold, uncomfortable, because Tamaki finally knew what he was traded with.

What he had been traded with.

There only had been, was, would ever be one goal in Kyouya's life. Tamaki was his everything but he wasn't Kyouya's goal, wasn't a part of his dream.

They stood motionless, watching in each other, speech the last thing in their mind. This was a dangerous territory neither had dared to trespass before, although... But neither of them wanted to give it a voice, not until now when Kyouya had made a choice.

And they had always thought that it would be Tamaki. Tamaki was the only son, the only heir, the only possible successor. To properly succeed the Suou family, he was obligated to marry a nice, reputable girl because after all, there was the requirement to have an heir and despite all of his superiorities and perfection, Ootori Kyouya was a man through and through and thus couldn't carry out the most important mission in the long list of 'Principal Duties of the Wife of Suou Tamaki'.

This thought, this _snake_, sometimes stirred from its hibernation, but both of them were dreamers and so it was pushed to the back of his mind and locked in one of its many drawers – his hidden Pandora's boxes – because for the moment he just wanted to feel, to savour the feeling of those hands touching him in places he had never allowed others to.

They were dreamers and very good pretenders too._And fools,_ Kyouya thought to himself dryly, because this was reality and Ootori Kyouya would always be, the first and foremost, an egoist.

They were twenty-four and for his ambitions, want, responsibilities, Kyouya was getting married.

**End Chapter One**

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**A/N:** There goes the first chapter. Short, I know, but later chapters will definitely be longer than the prologue. That said, I have some questions about Kyouya, so please help me. I'm completely at loss about his family except for the fact that he has a fiendishly cruel father, two older brothers and one older sister. Does he have other family members? What about his mother? I hasn't read the manga so if there is any information you can share, do help me. Thanks in advance!

Thank you for everyone reading this fic. Long live Tamaki/Kyouya! Don't forget to review!


	2. Chapter 2

**Harbour**

**Author: Atthla**

**Disclaimer **and **Warning **are in chapter one.

**A/N: **Okay, second chapter already. This is angst, fluff and weirdness thrown into one. Enjoy!

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**Chapter Two: Two Fools**

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She was very beautiful.

Ever since he was a child, Kyouya had always been surrounded by pretty girls and beautiful women. To be a connoisseur of beauty was a qualification the sons of the Ootori family undoubtedly must possess and he indeed had successfully mastered the skill. For him, to apply the skill whenever he needed to smooth his way was easy and he knew when and where to use it, unlike a certain former Host Club King who–

Kyouya pushed his eyeglasses higher up the bridge of his nose, banishing the thought from his mind. This was his engagement party and thoughts about a former lover were highly inappropriate in such occasion. His fiancée, Fujieda Ageha, was a shy, demure young woman of twenty-one and she seemed pleasant enough to him so far. It often made him wonder when he made acquaintances with one or two women who suited his tastes very well, that if he had not met Tamaki that day – or had not responded when Tamaki had kissed him the other day, or when the devil reincarnation had put that hand on his–

_Again._ Kyouya almost let out a frustrated hiss. This was becoming intolerable.

His sight drifted toward the silent lady next to him. She was smiling, in a way which made him feel like he was courting a fine china doll. Her smile was small, distant but oddly befitting on her white porcelain face. She stood upright, gloved hands put atop each other with the one displaying a gleaming sapphire ring on top. Her peach-coloured gown was a wonderful complement to her skin and her contrastingly dark long hair, which was adorned by a white ribbon.

A doll indeed. Kyouya fought down an urge to sigh. At least she was polite and fine to look at, in addition to other valuable plus points on the business side. A very suitable bride for the successor of the Ootori family.

If only she wasn't so silent.

On second thought, it was better than being engaged to a replica of Renge. Imagine what his married life could turn out to.

A small commotion stirred his attention to life. Some of the guests had started whispering among themselves, a habit he found very distasteful but unfortunately was embraced full-heartedly in his circle of acquaintances, at the entrance of several new guests. No wonder, Kyouya's lips thinned into an almost invisible line, it was the Hitachiin family.

The announcement had been six months away but the effect lasted until now. The cause? A beautiful lady who was presently escorted by the Hitachiin Brothers.

It took him a moment to remind himself that the beautiful lady was Haruhi and that she had already been engaged to Kaoru. It was where the talk had come from, especially since Hikaru had been announced as the successor of the family. Twin brothers competing for the love of one girl. Kyouya had had to force himself not to laugh then and he was currently undergoing the same process now.

Rumours and tittle-tattles. If only thou know how misleading thy voice is.

But that was not what concerned him. It was that look in the two brothers's eyes, one that said to whoever unfortunate enough to have it directed at them '_yes, you are in a very big trouble, man, so you better prepare yourself to feel hell's own wrath'_, one he would come face to face only when those two were extremely upset – no, livid. He usually would just lie back and enjoy the show but not now, when that look was most likely going to be directed at him.

His engagement was not popular among his own friends it seemed, Kyouya reflected to himself dryly.

His father and brothers were exchanging pleasantries with the senior members of the Hitachiin family, but the younger ones directly advanced toward him and his fiancée, the look not disappearing from their faces. Haruhi didn't have any choice but to follow them with a frown, seeing that both of her arms were linked with each of the brothers.

The twins congratulated him politely but didn't make an effort to be friendlier. Kyouya was not expecting anything more, so he was hardly surprised. It was Haruhi who tried to make amends for their behaviour.

"Don't mind them, Kyouya-senpai," she said when the brothers had left in search for food, "they were having a bad day."

And apparently with his engagement party as the cherry on top, he almost retorted but managed to maintain a firm control over his tongue. It wasn't Haruhi's fault that the twins had decided to be hostile. Far from that, he was grateful when Haruhi tried to engage his wife-soon-to-be in a conversation, certain that Ageha was in the best hands – and partly relieved that she was apparently capable of a normal speech. No wonder though, he felt himself slipping into one of his tiny rare smiles, this was the same girl who could handle a bunch of colourful rich guys with problematical backgrounds at once and had not gone mad in process.

"Your friend is very kind, Kyouya-san," his fiancée said timidly when Haruhi had left her company to look for the twins.

He nodded, smiling slightly. "Yes, she is."

"She said the two of you were in the same high school. Ouran, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Kyouya replied quickly, trying hard not to let some of those high school memories wreak havoc to his current mood, and exhibited one of his most pleasant smiles. "It was unfortunate that you had to undergo your education in England, Ageha-san."

"Oh," she seemed startled, slight pinkness spreading across her cheeks. Kyouya suppressed an urge to wince. This was the most annoying part about girls beside their high-pitched voices; blushes. For some reasons, he couldn't stand blushes, except when they decorated Tama–

_Again!_

At this point, Kyouya had begun to feel the onset of a particularly nasty headache. And to his utmost dismay, before he could put everything in order once more, the next guests had made their entrance. The Haninozuka and Morinozuka had arrived – almost simultaneously as usual – and he felt the apprehension rapidly returning, which had absolutely nothing to do with meeting two clans that had had a particularly close history with martial arts for as long as he knew.

"Ah! There you are, Kyou-chan!" A young man with deceptively small stature separated himself from the group, followed by a tall shadow he only knew too well. Kyouya readied a smile, ignoring the small unpleasant voice in his head which had been very kind to inform him that it was his business smile, not the one he usually reserved only for his friends.

Both heirs of the families were not behaving any differently, the ultra cute Honey-senpai wishing him the best with a big grin on his face and Mori-senpai being his usual stoic, silent self. It had made him feel relieved for a moment until Kyouya noticed that the smaller of the two walked past a table laid with various _sweet _desserts without a single glance.

Now he was certain that his decision was not popular at all. To the people he cared enough about at least, and unfortunately, it was one of the very few things that mattered to Kyouya.

But he was chosen to succeed the Ootori family, wasn't he?"

The subject was removed from his thought when yet another set of guests approached him. They were people he recognized strictly for their business importance but for the moment, Kyouya welcomed the distraction even if more empty small talks had to be made. Anything was better.

The party itself was splendid. His father had made sure that to honor the engagement of the family's successor, nothing short of a grand celebration was in order. And of course it held other significance – at least for him – because it also marked his final triumph in the fight for the throne. It wasn't as if he hated his brothers, but living in their shadows ever since he had been born really could make even the most magnanimous little brother less sympathetic in certain things.

He had worked hard. He deserved it.

There were still two hours before the party would end, he discovered with a sigh, and looked around to check his mental list of important guests. It seemed that all of them had made their appearance – yes, he was not counting _that_ one family, but what idiot would expect him to anyway. He turned toward the main door and his breath was caught in his throat.

_No way in hell._

The world felt like it had suddenly stopped spinning. Kyouya restrained himself from rubbing his eyes but still blinking several times to make sure, to make _really_ sure that they were transmitting the right visual input. To his complete alarm, the apparition didn't vanish and had proceeded to greet his father instead.

Tamaki.

Kyouya closed his eyes for a moment, sorting his thought. He had sent the other man an invitation, yes, but it was only for appearance's sake – from an Ootori to a Suou so to say. He – or everyone with a sane mind in that matter – naturally couldn't expect that Tamaki would show up, right? Not after everything that had happened between them. It was just plain impossible.

And then he remembered that most things concerning Tamaki were impossible and found himself suppressing the urge to hit his head on a nearby wall.

"Is that Suou Tamaki-sama, Kyouya-san?" Ageha asked from his side.

"Yes," his answer came out through gritted teeth and she looked uncertainly at him. Kyouya compelled himself to smile and said with a kinder voice, "Our families are business partners and we have been together since junior high school."

_Together indeed._

After reprimanding his inner thought to behave itself for the umpteenth time that night, he returned his gaze toward Tamaki who was being held in conversation by his two brothers, trying to impress the heir of the Suou family no doubt. His friend was smiling amiably and suddenly Kyouya felt suspicious.

It was impossible, the reasonable part of his mind said, but then he remembered his earlier reflection about the blonde and impossibilities, and took back his words.

Everything was possible.

But Tamaki was not vindictive, the same part reasoned again, and to this Kyouya had to agree. It had always been his job to be the vindictive one, he was raised like that. Still, looking at that smile, he couldn't help but to think that he had done a very big mistake. Not that the man would crash his party or something, but the Ootori and the Suou often crossed path in their line of business and seeing now that he was the successor of his family, there was little doubt left that he would have several if not many dealings with Tamaki in the future.

His father might as well have destroyed the family's chance to prosper accordingly by choosing Kyouya as his successor.

Warily, he watched the blonde man crossing the room toward him, still with that smile on his face. With each step taken, Kyouya felt his heartbeat speeding up rapidly.

It was a very bad idea to invite Tamaki.

"Congratulations, Kyouya," his friend's voice sounded surprisingly cool when he extended a hand out to him.

"Thank you," he replied tightly, keeping his voice as steady as possible, and accepted the offered hand. It felt strange, not a shred of Tamaki's usual exuberance was there to detect, but then again, he reminded himself dryly, it _was _to be expected. It was even surprising that his former lover had not attempted anything else which was in line with his usual dramatic flair.

"And Lady Ageha," the blonde had turned toward his fiancee with one of his charming smiles on, taking her hand to bestow a kiss on it. "To think that a lady as breathtakingly beautiful as you is now engaged pains my heart deeply, but please accept my sincerest goodwill to congratulate you. Oh, love is such a beautiful but cruel thing."

Kyouya, despite his earlier shock at the other man's appearance, couldn't help but to roll his eyes. This was, after all, Tamaki. He and the word 'drama queen' had been born together and would always continue to be coexist intimately, as verified by another exaggerated bow he made that left Ageha blushing a deeper scarlet.

It was when Kyouya realized that something was wrong. With him.

He frowned, unsure what to make of the discomfort he felt at the small scene as his friend continued uttering nonsense. When he finally found out what it was, Kyouya saw it fit to reproach himself for being jealous not for his lovely fiancée, but _at _said fiancée who by now had been giggling in her own timid way. Or maybe for letting himself to be jealous in the first place would be a better term. He thought his tolerance to let feelings get in the way had ended with his relationship with Tamaki.

No, it was still there, as proved by his overwhelming displeasure to see those lips which were usually tracing every inch of his skin once more applied a kiss to the pale back of her hand. Kyouya looked away and glowered to the general direction of the guests but found himself being scrutinized by Honey-senpai's big chocolate eyes which, for once, looked more shrewd than innocent.

This was just getting worse and worse.

Seeing that Tamaki would not quit his flirting anytime soon, he excused himself with a polite murmur and made his way toward the long banquet tables under pretense of getting himself a drink. He took a glass of champagne and left the room for the balcony, anger boiling within him.

So that was what Tamaki was trying to do, wasn't it? Trying to make him jealous. And his small attempt was not unsuccessful to say the least, because what else could his irritation mean?

Kyouya hated defeat and to see that the victor was Tamaki didn't improve his mood.

"What are you doing here, Kyouya-senpai?"

He almost dropped the glass he was holding and turned around so quickly toward the source of the low, unfriendly voice that a little champagne was spilled to his fingers. Alarmed, he found himself face to face with the Hitachiin brothers, Hikaru with one arm circling his brother's waist and Kaoru leaning toward the older twin much too close than brothers normally should, probably in the middle of engaging each other in activities he would rather not know.

Or perhaps they had been waiting for him here. This did look like an ambush and the twins _did _possess an uncanny timing, as witnessed by the obscene number of their successful pranks.

"The beautiful fiancée may get lonely without you, you know," the younger of the two informed him pleasantly, in contrast with the apparent aloofness in his eyes. Kyouya felt his stomach made an uncomfortable flip at the sight.

"My fiancée is currently being entertained so thoroughly that she can't possibly notice my absence," he replied coolly and took a sip from his glass, wishing no one had noticed that his fingers were less steady than they should.

Hikaru disentangled himself from his brother and advanced toward him, an identical coldness in his eyes. "Kyouya-senpai," he said, his voice hard. "What are you doing?"

Well, he had expected a confrontation – if not this soon – so better get it done and over with. One thing for sure, he was not going to let himself be defeated twice in a row. Kyouya set his glass aside and returned the glare indifferently.

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean, Hikaru."

"Oh, you know what I mean alright," the older twin snapped and drew even closer, forcing him to take one step back. "What are you doing being engaged to that girl?"

Adjusting his glasses, he let the think silence linger for a moment before answering, his voice carefully devoid of any emotion, "We are both the successors of the family. I'm pretty sure you understand my situation."

Clearly annoyed by the answer, Hikaru opened his mouth again but his brother beat him to it.

"So that is why, eh? The successor of the family problem," Kaoru drawled, his voice dripping sarcasm as he also sauntered forward. Between the two, Kyouya found himself uneasily cornered, the cold railing digging into his back.

"Well, I'm sure we have mentioned this before," Hikaru said, his intonation slow and deliberate, an odd glint in his eyes.

"We won't forgive anyone who hurts our lord," Kaoru followed, the smiling lips dangerously close to his ear as his brother took position at his other side.

"And that's including you, Kyouya-senpai."

"So think very carefully," the younger twin withdrew, leaving a shiver running down his spine, and returned to the circle of his brother's arm still with the same aloof smile. "Do you really want to do this?"

Despite the oppressive feeling in his chest, Kyouya found himself giving the twin an indifferent look. "Are you two threatening me?"

"Who knows?" they replied in perfect synch and the way they looked so much like the other was, for once, utterly disturbing to him. "We can make someone's life very miserable, you know. If we really want to."

Kyouya had no doubt of it, but his attention was currently drawn to a small sound coming from the door which he had left slightly ajar. The twin turned around and they found Tamaki standing before the door, a stern look on his face.

It felt like the temperature had dropped for several degrees and Kyouya knew it had nothing to do with the deepening night. He couldn't see the twin's expression but knew that their alarm was no less than his because Tamaki for once looked like the king he had always proclaimed himself to be.

He took a step forward, the sound echoing in the cool, silent night air. Kyouya discovered that it was getting harder to breathe properly, sensing the impending doom.

"That wasn't nice," Tamaki finally said, displeasure ringing in his voice.

Another round of silence followed and no one moved as if afraid to break the spell, as if Tamaki's presence brought everything but the wind to a standstill. Kyouya remembered one moment exactly like this, the intense pressure, the suffocating atmosphere, when Tamaki had confronted his father, angry but still calm enough to state his opinion politely, when the head of Ootori family had brought up once more the subject of a third son.

At that moment, Kyouya had realized that Suou Tamaki did not just suffer a severe case of crush with him.

It was Hikaru who stirred first, dragging Kaoru toward the door, and stopped just before their lord. "That wasn't fair either," he retorted, glancing back at the dark-haired man, and disappeared with his brother behind the door.

And so they were left alone.

It was the worst possible scenario, Kyouya realized with a grimace. They had not parted in the best term – no one would be able to part in the best term under any circumstance like that – and yet here they were. The other man's violet-hued eyes were fixed on him and under that melancholy gaze, Kyouya didn't know whether to feel flattered or trapped.

Because Tamaki was still in love with him.

He tried not to think whether the feeling was mutual or not.

Suddenly Tamaki smiled, even if it was small and hesitant, and his voice was no longer as confident when he spoke, "I'm sorry for what they did, Kyouya. If I knew they were going to blame you, I would have stopped them."

Kyouya reached for his forgotten glass and sipped the champagne, relieved that he had something to douse his dry throat before looking up again.

"Why are you here?"

Even from that distance, he could see Tamaki's eyes darkening. "I think I understand your reasons now," his friend murmured.

"You come today to say that?" he asked blandly, ignoring the emotions which were too busy contradicting each other in his chest. He was grateful that Tamaki understood, really, but the selfish part of him – the one which was still very much in love with his blonde friend – cried at the loss.

He was proving himself a worse and worse hypocrite with each passing second.

"Yes," the other man answered frankly. "I understand what you meant, but there is one more thing I need to say." He paused and heaved a deep sigh before continuing with a braver tone of voice, "I really think you should stop the engagement."

Kyouya felt his throat tightening at the last sentence and once more he ignored the roars and screams of his contradictory emotions. "You said you understood," he growled, demanding for an explanation.

"I did," Tamaki insisted, suddenly speaking very fast, "but listen, Kyouya, I've been thinking for a while and if it's a wife that you want I can probably get a transsexual surgery and–"

"Are you insane??" Kyouya cut him off, horrorstricken, and forgot altogether about the glass in his hand which, courtesy to his carelessness, soon fell down to the ground below with a startling crash. But at the moment, Kyouya just couldn't bring himself to care.

_He_ must have gone out of his mind!

Tamaki looked apologetic but definitely not ashamed. Instead, he breached the distance between them with a few long strides and quickly said again, "Think about it, Kyouya. It's easy and don't you think it's better if we marry each other? Well, I know I'm usually on top but–"

"That isn't the point!" he shouted, finding himself getting more and more frustrated with each second. "You're just so incredibly stupid!"

Tamaki seemed hurt by the accusation, almost like he didn't understand why – which might be exactly the case because this was the idiot of all idiots Kyouya was facing. And as if he wanted to prove the point, the blonde said again, "But I thought it was a brilliant idea!"

"You are Suou Tamaki!" he no longer cared if he was shouting in the top of his lungs at this point. "You can't just do anything so unbelievably stupid like that!"

_Not for me at least._

Kyouya inwardly snarled at that little voice in his head. He really didn't need that right now.

But he should have known that it wouldn't end just like that. Instead of withdrawing, Tamaki narrowed his eyes and at the next second, Kyouya had found his wrist being held prisoner by his friend's strong grip.

"I don't want to be Suou Tamaki," the blonde stated, graver, angrier than Kyouya had ever seen in his whole life. "I want to be the one you love."

Inwardly Kyouya cursed, Always, _always_ he would react to that word. And the fact that he had the other man so close to him didn't help. It was almost too much, and he could feel his body shuddering already from the heat and Tamaki probably didn't even know that. And those lips. Kyouya resisted the urge to bring his hand up and trace them with his fingers.

Two whole weeks. Had he actually been trying to survive without all these? It seemed absurd, out of the question, completely impossible.

But then he remembered his father, and his body stiffened.

"Kyouya?" Tamaki called out tentatively, probably unsure of the ground he was treading.

He felt a sob threatening to escape from his throat. It was stupid. He was still in love with his friend, but there was a fiancee waiting for him in the ballroom. Kyouya was an egoist, yes, but there were things he would never allow himself to do.

But _Tamaki._

"You are very selfish, do you know that?" he said, no longer caring if his voice betrayed everything he felt.

Tamaki looked crestfallen and something in his face just broke Kyouya's heart. It was unfair.

Then again, love always was.

"Is that why you stop loving me?" he asked, the question falling out a broken whisper.

"That is _not_ the point," Kyouya snapped, leaving out the part which vehemently contradicted the other man's question.

It had never been a question in the first place. He had not stopped loving Tamaki.

And it was a good thing that his friend didn't know that fact.

"I know I often make you angry," the blonde said again, looking so rueful that Kyouya felt like he had just kicked a lost puppy. "And I'm sorry for being an ass last time. I was just so mad but–"

"You are NOT apologizing," Kyouya cut him off, black fury, desperation burning in his veins, his mind screaming that _yes, I deserved it, idiot, don't you dare take it back because if you do, what will remain to save me?_

"But I–"

"Enough!" his voice rose and Tamaki looked, if nothing else, surprised at his outburst. Kyouya winced. He had long since coming into term with the fact that his blonde friend was the only one who could crack his mask of perpetual coolness, but it still didn't stop him from hating himself for it.

"I will not hear any of this nonsense anymore," he deadpanned and walked past the other man

Tamaki was being a stupid egoist and he was being unfair. They were going around in a loop, two fools that would never meet.

It was just plain impossible.

But Kyouya still felt his heart stopping when a pair of arms reached out and enveloped him from behind, effectively stilling his movement. He couldn't pretend not to notice the tremor running in his friend's body and Tamaki's voice, the one he had often heard whispered to the ears of their many designees, only much thinner, much shakier, now caressed his own ears as he whispered, "Kyouya, I need you so much that it hurts. I know I'm being selfish but is there really nothing I can do? I just want us to stay like we always did. Is that too much to ask?"

It was. Kyouya knew the answer since millisecond one, but to actually put a voice into it was an altogether different matter, especially since his power of speech seemed to have went into hiding under the close warmth of Tamaki's trembling arms.

_This is where you belong, _it said.

Ootori Kyouya had never felt smaller in his entire life.

"If only I'm a girl," Tamaki suddenly spoke again, sounding vexed at the entire situation he wouldn't be able to change even if the sky fell down. Kyouya couldn't help a very little smile, and if he leant in just a little bit closer, he was very willing to blame it on the champagne.

"But I'm not, so we have to do something," his friend concluded, claiming a spot on his left shoulder to rest his chin.

So this was it. Kyouya closed his eyes briefly, savoring the precious little moment with a quiet intake of quivering breath, and murmured, hating how small his voice sounded compared to the loud sound that couldn't be anything else but his heartbeat. "Everything comes with a price, Tamaki. We are not commoners, and with that come every privilege and curse all of us must live with. This," he turned around to face Tamaki, his hand settled on top of the blonde's chest where the heart was beating frantically under his palm, "this isn't for us."

"I can renounce myself from the family," the blonde said, stubbornness etched on every inch of his face.

Kyouya gave him a small, forlorn smirk. "You said that, but can you actually live without having your every little whim fulfilled? After so long living with everything your family could give you?"

Tamaki's face hardened slightly, as well as his voice when he answered, "Do you forget that I wasn't always a Suou?"

"But you are a Suou through and through now," he replied, slowly releasing himself from the blonde's now loose grasp, and gazed calmly into the wild violet eyes. "This is what we are, Tamaki, and this is what I want. I've made my choice."

He turned around and reentered the ballroom, right on cue as the music suddenly came to life.

It was the time for a dance.

**End Chapter Two**

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**A/N2:** I want a happy ending, really, but to write a happy but believable one is so hard when I don't even have any idea how. Anyway, big thanks with hugs and kisses to everyone who has reviewed chapter one. It will be the twin's turn on the next chapter. Behold my prowess to make these boys miserable. Please review.


	3. Chapter 3

**Harbour**

**Author: Atthla**

**Diclaimer** and **Warning** are in chapter one.

**A/N:** In which the twins are not as in synch as they always seem. Dedicated to those who want some HikaKao moments.

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**Chapter Three: Three of A Kind**

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"_Kaoru."_

He thought it was a dream, the soft affectionate voice, until he felt a hand caress the top of his head. Stirring from his sleep, Kaoru struggled to open his eyes and found himself staring blearily at the half-frowning face of his brother.

"What are you doing? Why did you fall asleep on the desk?" Hikaru asked, the hand moving lower to rest on his cheek as Kaoru raised his head from the hard pillow which, he realized a moment later, was the surface of said desk.

"I must have fallen asleep," he mumbled, smiling sleepily at his brother, and straightened up, unaware of a piece of paper which was making its way to the floor from the top of the desk.

"Well, that's obvious," Hikaru rolled his eyes and bent down to pick up the paper. His eyes widened and suddenly Kaoru remembered why he had fallen asleep on the desk in the first place.

"Hikaru, that is not finished!" he exclaimed and stood up, trying to seize the paper from his brother's hand, but Hikaru distanced it away from his reach and hooked an arm around his waist instead, effectively anchoring him. Kaoru found himself pressed against dark blue suit, the faint whiff of cologne his twin had put on before he had left this morning caressing his nose with its tantalizing fingers.

"But I can see its exquisiteness already," Hikaru whispered with a smile and landed a soft kiss on his lips. "You are so much better than me in these things. I can't produce a half-decent design if my life depends on it."

"Right, like you don't have things you yourself need to deal with," Kaoru mumbled, trying to sound indignant despite the loud drumming his heart made in his chest. What the hell was wrong with him anyway? This was Hikaru, the twin brother he had spent his twenty-three living years with.

"Give it back," he insisted.

His brother's eyes gleamed. "Not yet," he said and put the unfinished sketch away before pushing his twin down to the long couch conviniently placed next to the desk, grinning at the sulking face. "One thing that I am certain of is, with your designs at the front line, our success this year is assured."

"Don't exaggerate, I'm still learning," Kaoru replied with a pout before proceeding to pull his brother down into a slow, languid kiss. He felt Hikaru smiling to his lips and smiled back, letting the other to gain the upper hand for a little while as his mouth enjoyed a thorough plundering. His own fingers traced a line down Hikaru's jaw, finding the knot of his tie, loosening – playing – with it until Hikaru made a frustrated noise at the back of his throat. He grinned and pulled their lips apart gently but firmly, looking straight at lust-glazed eyes.

"So how's the meeting?"

Hikaru gave him a disbelieving look. "You want to know about the meeting?"

"But of course," he answered nonchalantly, working at the knot with deliberate slowness that he knew driving not only some parts of his anatomy mad.

"_Now_?"

Kaoru raised twin perfectly innocent eyebrows. "When else?"

"Are you _sure_?"

He opened his mouth to answer but only a groan made it out of his throat as Hikaru ground his hips down, the impact coursing through his body with a speed that should be impossible. But of course. This was Hikaru. Kaoru was willing to bet his very soul that there was someone who knew his body better than he himself did and it was Hikaru.

"That is _not _fair," he accused, glaring at his smirking brother.

"Your rules, little brother," Hikaru pointed out and did another trick with his hips which forced Kaoru to suppress another groan. "Now, still want to know about the meeting?"

"I'm dying to," he answered with mock seriousness but his fingers had already reached the knot again. Hikaru grinned down at him.

"Then I'll happily oblige," he played along, allowing Kaoru to throw the tie to the other side of the room and reach down to a column of buttons. "It was boring as hell but it went rather well so I shouldn't complain. Can you believe that old man Hamada brought his daughter to the stock meeting? She looked so dumb sitting there without understanding a thing."

"Ah, talking about hidden intentions, are we?" Kaoru teased lightly as he helped his brother to divest himself of the thick suit.

Hikaru made a face at him. "Obvious intentions are more like it."

"Mm," he made an approving noise, partly because his brother had slipped a hand under his shirt and entertained him with slow, lazy caresses. "That is to be expected, isn't it? After all, you should be engaged now that I already am. Tell me, dear brother, how many proposals have been made to you during the last six months?"

Hikaru stopped whatever he was doing and stared at him in disbelief. "You are _not _being jealous."

Kaoru gave him a noncommittal smile. "Maybe I am."

"You're impossible, Kaoru. After all I've gone through for you?"

"Hikaru," he held his brother's face between his hands, voice stripped of all mirth, and said will all seriousness he could muster, "I really think you should marry."

His twin gave him a blank look. "What?"

Kaoru swallowed, his throat suddenly thick and heavy, and repeated, "You should marry."

Those golden eyes, identical to his own, narrowed dangerously. "That's not what you think. That's what Mother thinks."

"But Hikaru–"

"No."

Kaoru fell silent as his brother got up and sat at the far end of the couch, a disgruntled expression on his face. The line was crossed, he knew, but he had to say it. There was a thought which had lurked for too long at the back of his mind. He was getting tired of it whispering to him _unfair,you have betrayed him, at least free him from your dirty little fingers, you cheater._

Sometimes, Kaoru wished that there was a line between them. It would make things much easier, not to mention simpler.

"Do you want me to get married?" Suddenly Hikaru asked, hisvoice blunt and harsh, as were his eyes which were looking straight at him.

"No," he said flatly, meeting the fierce gaze, "but do _you_ want me to get married?"

"Kaoru, I'm–"

"No," he held up a hand, the other cradling his suddenly throbbing head, "no, please don't start again. We've gone through that already."

Hikaru did not say anything for a long time but his lips thinned and Kaoru recognized a silent plea of truce when he saw one, particularly when it came from his older brother. It wasn't Hikaru's fault, he inwardly cursed. Hell, it was _his_ fault. It was him who came with the original plan and God knows he had broken Hikaru's heart when it had been carried out and approved by no other than their mother.

But that was his brother. He would sulk for one day and express his full support on the next. And it was for Haruhi, someone who was actually on the list of people-worthy-enough-of-their-concern. Both of them had accepted it, fully and unconditionally. Still, sometimes reality – jealousy, pain, selfishness – just reared its ugly head and reminded them of what could have been.

Actually it wasn't that bad. At least he would marry Haruhi, not some other girl he barely knew and most likely could not tolerate. Kaoru was aware that she was probably _the one_ for so many others and it was his insightfulness only which had won her. He was the most perceptive in their small circle of friends, second only to Kyouya-senpai who unfortunately had a grave disadvantage in this round. Kaoru understood Haruhi and she knew that he did. It was only that, understanding. Doubtless, affection was there at some degree, but it would never ever be able to hold a candle to what he felt to his brother.

"You know Mother clearly states that we must have a child," suddenly Hikaru said, his voice heavy but frank.

"We can always adopt," Kaoru replied, silently wondering why it was him who was waving the red flag now but still accepting the role without protest. The white flag, the signature at the end of their treaty was not without sacrifice, which they only knew too well.

Hikaru fully looked at him at last, a small mirthless smile on his lips. "I'd rather have your son inheriting the business, Kaoru."

"He won't be my son. He will be our son."

It was obviously a sneer on his brother's face now and Kaoru prepared himself for a remark no less than vicious.

"You mean see whose sperm can beget the child?"

"Hikaru–"

"Damn it," the older twin hissed, face buried in a pair of trembling hands. "This is just so sick."

A long silence stretched between them. Kaoru felt the bitter taste of loss, hopelessness, guilt rising in his throat but didn't say anything. It was not Hikaru, he tried to convince himself, it was disappointment speaking, cursing this whole ordeal they were too scared to change. Or maybe _he _was too scared to change. If he had not come to that benefit in Paris with his mother a year ago, he might not feel this way.

Hikaru had not been there because of a mild cold, resting at their hotel room as he and their mother attended the event. The whole night, he had felt off, unused to the absence of an only-too-familiar presence at his side and everything had come brighter, sharper to his senses. Kaoru had been in the verge of snapping at a fat balding man who hadn't stopped jabbering for the last five minutes about a topic which obviously didn't catch his interest when his mother had suddenly appeared at his side and suddenly the conversation had taken turn to heirs and marriages.

Kaoru was familiar with his mother's inclination to matchmaking – after all, it was not her first attempt – and had been ready to unobtrusively excuse himself when wives and children came into the conversation. It had been her smile, brilliant and proud, as she talked about the yet unborn grandchildren she would undoubtedly have from her two handsome sons that had stayed Kaoru at his place and left him more miserable than he had been in years since that little crush Hikaru had had for Haruhi. It hurt to look at his mother's smile and the feeling that he couldn't do anything about it was suffocating.

But he couldn't choose. People said it was sick – twins falling in love with each other – but they had never cared much about others in the first place. Unless that person really mattered to them.

Unfortunately, his mother, no matter how strange she was as a parent to a set of twin sons, was one of them.

She might not know but she undoubtedly had guessed. As the head of the Hitachiin family, she had not said anything, not even when she had personally told them about who was to be the heir of their empire and his main obligations as said heir which involved even more heirs. But as a mother, there had been this one look, not admonishing, only a thoughtful look sent his way and Kaoru felt like he understand more than he should. It had never really occurred to him but apparently their mother knew her sons better than he thought.

The look said 'let him go.'

It might be some kind of a twisted revenge from him, the thing between him and Haruhi. He couldn't help but to feel angry at the whole world and… wasn't his mother supposed to give him, her own flesh and blood, her full support? And the thought that Hikaru was unaware about all of these silent wars going right in front of his eyes only disappointed him further.

"Kaoru, I'm sorry."

He felt like kicking himself over the head. Hikaru was doing it again, those eyes drowned in total guilt and apology written all over his face. Kaoru had admitted to himself a long time ago that Hikaru and anything remotely related to apology was a deadly combination. And if there was anyone who knew how hard it was for the older Hitachiin to say 'sorry', it was his younger brother.

He must feel really, really sorry.

"I don't want to involve her either," Kaoru finally said with a sigh, his voice gentle, almost coaxing and he wondered how the hell he could do that. "You know I meant to break the engagement once her father hadrecovered from the surgery. It was her who proposed this idea to us."

"She knows I can't live without you," Hikaru muttered, in his eyes gentleness that only felt cold to his younger brother, "but we're only hurting each other like this. You're engaged to her and here we are kissing behind doors."

Kaoru gave him a bland look. "Actually there is another option. We can continue living like the lord and Kyouya-senpai and wait until the same thing that is happening to them happens to us." He looked away, ignoring the wince on his brother's face, and added quietly, "I know I'm selfish, Hikaru, but I really don't want that."

The long couch suddenly felt smaller when Hikaru moved closer and wrapped his arms around Kaoru's waist, lips pressed to the back of his neck and warm, shaky breaths ghosting over his skin. Kaoru involuntarily suppressed a shudder.

"Me neither," Hikaru murmured, burying his face in the crookof his brother's neck. "I love you, Kaoru."

There were things – their teacher's long preach, commoner's lifestyle, other people's problems, _mushy proclamations_ – that should went unacknowledged by him and still Kaoru felt his heart breaking into myriads of splintered pieces.

**End Chapter Three**

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**A/N2:** Argh, I have a headache. There are too many underlying things in this chapter. Anyway, this thing between Kaoru and Haruhi will be explained more in the next chapter and we'll be back to Kyouya, so stay tuned and please review. Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Harbour**

**Author: Atthla**

**Diclaimer** and **Warning** are in chapter one.

**A/N: **Finally, after so long contemplating what I should do with this story, here I come bearing chapter four. Sorry for the long delay. Hope everyone enjoy it.

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**Chapter Four: Withering**

**-----**

Kyouya hated money.

Especially during times like these. The Ootori might be rich but even they had their limit somewhere and so here he was, sitting in front of sixty-seven applications, in his hands the right to choose which lucky fifteen would win the jackpot and earn the free ticket to surgery.

At this moment, Kyouya really, really hated money.

This must have been one of the reasons why his father had sold one of their companies years ago, the one he himself had bought. He had thought of it as a grand victory, never imagining that something else beside his father's occasional slip-ups might have caused the small catastrophe. Until this morning at least, when his father had called him to his office and laid before him these… options.

Kyouya leant back to his high-backed office chair, its welcoming luxury offering no comfort to him at the moment. He hated to admit this, but he felt like he was no more than a little child, wanting five flavours of ice creams when his mother only allowed him two. If only he had the money. That was the point. Money.

None of the people who had submitted these applications owned the amount of money large enough to pay for a single simple surgery, let alone the multistage, complex ones. Each had their own sad story, their own reasons, and for the thousandth time Kyouya sent a hateful glance toward the telephone sitting innocently on his desk. His father expected a list of fifteen names before three o'clock this afternoon, a stack of selected applications on his desk, and Kyouya really wanted to give him a call and say that he should smear the blood on his own hands, not his son's.

But he didn't. Despite his growing irritation, Kyouya knew exactly why he had been given this task. He was _the_ heir. In times, it would be his obligation to make these choices and his father simply let him have a taste, to make him used to it – although he doubted very much that he would ever feel at ease doing this job. It felt no different to sending innocent people to the guillotine, in his head this knowledge that to save one would kill the other was echoing.

For probably the fiftieth time, Kyouya skimmed over the applications, re-reading information about each surgery and applicant he had actually committed to memory, just to make sure. They were usually brain and heart surgeries, those destitute commoners had no hope to pay except by borrowing money from banks that obviously would turn their request down after seeing their income balance. Every single applicant had been thoroughly inspected and Kyouya knew for sure that these were truly desperate peoples waiting for his decision.

There must be some other way. He could try to negotiate with some of the doctors, but that might not be a foreseeable option the next time he had to make another choice, perhaps in the next two or three months. He would plunge into the same hell and at that time, he might not have anything to claw his way out with.

Kyouya hated being helpless. He wondered how it felt for the family of the applicants.

There were still two hours before the deadline, he told himself after a weary glance to his watch. It was better trying to loose his mounting tension by having lunch than holing himself in here, and Kyouya stood up after throwing a last painful look toward the papers. His steps were slow and slightly unsteady when he wandered down the deserted corridor leading from his office. Must be the result of not eating breakfast. _Again._

Kyouya lifted a trembling hand to run through his immaculately-combed hair. Even if he had told himself sternly that feelings had no right to meddle in his life, his body seemed to have a mind of its own. It had been a month since his last confrontation with Tamaki and during that time span, his appetite had pretty much dwindled to nonexistence. His body ceased to crave anything but warmth left tingling on his skin since that moment many nights ago. He wanted it. He could feel it when he lay down on his bed wide-awake at night, hiding inside the cocoon of his thick warm blanket; when he sat in a meeting and shivered when the air-conditioner ghosted a touch on the back of his neck; when he faced a plate full of delicacies and could think nothing but a pair of miserable violet eyes.

He had tried to fight back, to regain his old proud self. The idea that he was being defeated by mere emotions did not sit well with him and he had actually succeeded in his endeavours for one full week. And then he just stopped to care. Willpower could only do so much and why should he be bothered if he missed breakfasts. Or lunches. Or only ate at dinner because his father's eyes were boring into him. It was just one of life's little ordeals. Like everything else, it would pass eventually.

After three seemingly-endless weeks, however, the new dietary arrangement had started to take its toll on him. Kyouya could be patient if he wanted to and he had actually armed himself with supplements to make amends for skipping his meals, but once again it was proved that the mind could not always control the body. He tired out more quickly and his concentration easily frayed. Not to mention that lack of eating was not improving his mood, which had never been good in the first place

Except when he was with his friends. With Tamaki.

It shouldn't be like this. Kyouya hated to admit it, but he didn't understand. His life was perfect, flawless, orderly, just like how he had always wanted it to be. Spick-and-span but, he realized bitterly, without a force of life. It was silent, barren, empty.

He missed the havoc, the typhoon Tamaki had brought into his life. It had been his constant – often irksome – companion for years and without him realizing, it had merged in, becoming an integral part of him, so much that now that it had disappeared, his world tumbled off its axis. Very few things could catch him off-guard but this one certainly did.

Stopping in front of the elevator, he pushed the 'down' button and waited, glad that there was no one around to see the strained expression on his face. He knew that he was slowly walking to his doom, but Kyouya refused to go back. He had made a choice. These were the consequences and he had to live with them. And so he kept walking down this bleak lonely path, watching his world lost a shade of its colours every day.

It was when the elevator had arrived that he was greeted by a familiar voice.

"Kyouya-senpai."

A _friendly_, familiar voice. Which was rare to come and visit him these days. God knows that his father was a veritable iceberg, his brothers hated him and his closest friends shunned him now.

"Haruhi," he returned the greeting, a smile slipping easily to his face, and joined the young woman inside. "Visiting your father?"

She made a sound somewhere between an exasperated sigh and an amused snort. "Yes. He always asked me to bring him some homemade food and the doctor said that he was getting better, so I thought why not? Oh, and thank you for spending your time with him, Kyouya-senpai. He just told me about it. My father enjoys your company very much."

"He has an interesting personality," Kyouya answered mildly but not untruthfully. For some unknown reasons, he had never found Ranka's histrionic persona annoying. As casually as possible, he sent an appraisal glance to his friend and asked, "Have you had lunch, Haruhi?"

"Yes, just before I went here."

"Then it should be called breakfast," he said dismissively. "Join me for a cup of coffee."

Her eyes widened and she looked hesitant for a moment, long enough to allow Kyouya to wonder if he actually had lost the only ally he thought he still had. But before he could reach a definite conclusion, she had shrugged her shoulders.

"Well, sure."

It surprised him how the little gesture lifted so much burden off his sullen mood. She didn't smile. Her expression was one of resigned acceptance. Of a friend, Kyouya realized with sharp pang in his chest, of a good friend who decided to do something she didn't particularly wanted but would do it nonetheless because it was a request from another friend. Haruhi had never been one for false modesty and empty smiles. Kyouya pressed his lips together, saying nothing.

Their short journey was spent in silence. He only nodded when white-uniformed doctors and nurses bowed and greeted him as the heir of the Ootori. Curious glances were thrown at the young woman by his side, but Haruhi paid no heed to any of them. Kaoru chose his bride well, was what crossed Kyouya's mind when he perceived this with a slight smile.

He had always thought that it would be Hikaru. His crush to Haruhi was obvious although the latter did not show any special affection toward him. She always regarded all of them – the Host Club boys – equally. That in the end it was Kaoru who had won her hand was a mystery Kyouya had yet to solve.

"Is something bothering you, Kyouya-senpai?" Haruhi suddenly asked when they had sat down in one of the private rooms designed exclusively for receiving important guests. He returned her questioning gaze steadily, aware that he was on for a good challenge. She was one of those few peoples who could read him a little deeper than he would have liked.

"I always have some things bothering me," he answered coolly, his tone just a little above a warning. "Your question is a good example."

The worried look on her face broke into a more amused one. "Then maybe you want to lessen one burden by answering my bothersome question."

Kyouya chuckled and decided that he could let her win the first round. "There are always _things_, Haruhi," he replied, carefully maintaining his answer vague. "For one, running a hospital is hardly an easy feat and that is only the beginning of the list."

"I hope Hikaru and Kaoru aren't on that list," she muttered, suddenly looking and sounding annoyed.

He arched his eyebrows, amused. "If I say yes, are they going to be in a big trouble?"

She smiled back at him, her expression so innocent that Kyouya couldn't even begin to believe it. "No, not a big trouble. A calamity will be more like it," she declared calmly.

"Then yes, they are on the list."

Haruhi raised her cup of milk tea to her lips, smothering a grin. "Your evil ways never change, Kyouya-senpai," she remarked after a small sip, smiling noncommittally, and he wondered how a plain commoner could bloom to such magnificent lady. Then again, this was Fujioka Haruhi.

"You are not too bad yourself," he murmured, commending her on the skill she had employed to orchestrate the conversation. It almost felt like they were working on tandem. He sometimes wished that his fiancée could do the same and maintain a fascinating discussion with him. She was a sophisticated lady, but her timidity simply eclipsed everything that it was a wonder if she was really the firstborn of an illustrious family. He decided that they needed to work on that before she officially became the wife of Ootori Kyouya.

"I need to practice if I want to become a first-class lawyer," Haruhi replied easily, "but I never dreamed of getting a praise from you, Kyouya-senpai."

He allowed himself a little smirk. "Kaoru doesn't know what he's getting himself into, does he?"

"Oh, he knows all right," she shook her dark, long-haired head. "He is no fool, Senpai, and I think you know about it best."

Kyouya made no reply to this. His old relationship with Tamaki was still a taboo subject for him to be openly discussed, even with someone as close as Haruhi, but he admitted that she had said the truth. Kaoru had been one of the main reasons why there had existed a relationship beyond friendship between him and the Suou's family heir. A scenario, neatly planned, had been carried out by the rest of the Host Club members during the winter holiday of Kyouya's second year. They had been bold enough to involve _him _and surprisingly had succeeded to keep him oblivious from the real objective of the _real_ scenario, which were Tamaki and himself. Haruhi, the false objective, had played her clueless role with such perfection that Kyouya was more convinced than ever that their only female member was much more than what met the eye.

A trained observer himself, Kyouya hadn't missed the fact that Kaoru was the mind behind the scenario, even if it had been heavily embellished by Hikaru's many designs of prank. He had sensed many little nudges from the younger boy now and then, but of course those subtle methods only fell dead before Tamaki's insensitiveness. Hence the bold scenario.

But Kyouya understood. Like him, Kaoru also spoke the language of the unspoken and the Ootori had to admit that he was very fluent in it. He could read between the lines and interpret them correctly, a skill which had only matured over the years. It was then when Kyouya had truly begun to appreciate the difference between the twins, and what they meant to each other.

But now there was Haruhi to be added into the equation. He silently regarded the young woman sitting in front of him, wondering if she knew where her position actually was. She must have. Haruhi didn't even need to learn to understand the unspoken, because she could practically see through all pretenses they had fortressed themselves with. There were no lines for her, no in-betweens.

Then why? She must know who Kaoru was truly in love with. Or were they playing a charade just as he was?

And the brothers spurned him for being engaged. Kyouya didn't know if he should laugh or scoff at this impressive display of hypocrisy. After all, they were only luckier because the girl was Haruhi.

Still, he saw no reason for her to accept the proposal. It was certainly not love and if it was for the sake of having a rich fiancé who could help paying her father's hospital bills, certainly there were better candidates around. Kaoru was the last person he could see falling in love with Haruhi. Mori would have been a vastly smarter choice. So why?

"You can ask me a question if you want, Kyouya-senpai," the young woman suddenly said, her tone gentle but enough to rouse him from his deep contemplation.

He mentally scolded himself for this little slip but acknowledged her perceptiveness with a small smile. "I still don't understand why you refused my help in your father's case," he said. "You accepted Kaoru's proposal instead, even with the knowledge that my family owns the best hospitals in the world and I can easily help you."

She was silent for a long moment, her face drawn in a serious thought. Kyouya had his own guesses flitting across his brain, hundreds of guesses, but none of them even came close to the answer which quietly tumbled out of her mouth.

"It's because I couldn't give you any merit, Senpai."

And he remembered a long time ago, a _very_ long time ago, when she had given him the same reply, with the same nonchalant expression on her face. He couldn't help but to wonder why everything seemed so simple to her. Maybe it was the commoner's blood in her.

"So it was merit?" he drawled and deliberately put a pause there while taking a sip from his coffee. Haruhi offered no further explanation, but her large brown eyes were still fixed on him, expecting him to say more. And so he did. "Do you even love Kaoru?"

This new question seemed to have taken her off guard, but her quick wits saved her. "I do, in my own way," she answered hastily but couldn't help to avert her eyes, and Kyouya knew that he had not imagined the uneasiness which had slipped into her voice. For one brief moment, he felt like he saw a black ugly spider, spinning an intricate design of glittery webs as it maliciously watched a number of butterflies tangled within the silvery clutch. They were the butterflies, trapped, helpless.

He didn't want to guess who – or what – the spider was.

"I thought all girls dreamt of a prince riding a white horse to come and sweep her off her feet," he spoke again, more softly this time.

"No." The firmness in her voice surprised him and he could see that some of it leaked into her eyes as well. "That is incorrect, Kyouya-senpai. Not only girls. _Everyone._ Everyone wishes for a person to love with all their heart."

Kyouya felt his mouth tightening into a thin line and told himself not to read too deeply into her words. She might mean nothing, only stating facts. With a practiced ease, he moved the spotlight away from him to her.

"You haven't found one, have you? That person you will go into the fire and cross the seven seas for."

"I probably never will," she said slowly, her voice devoid of any sadness that usually accompanied such statement, "if it is about finding one. But I feel that I have found that person in all of you. One part in Kaoru, another in Hikaru, and the rest in all of you. I cannot love one better than the other."

He stared curiously at her. "Really?"

She once again shrugged. "Do you think I like wearing pretty gowns and having a smile ready on my face wherever and whenever? Or wasting precious times attending parties when I should be able to study? But Kaoru's mother expects those things from me and after all she has done for me and my father, how can I say no?"

Kyouya tried to conceal his amusement at this blunt honesty, but then realized that she probably could see it all the same. "If those things burden you that much, why didn't you simply accept my help? I'm sure it would be easier not to trouble yourself with my judgment in merits."

Haruhi sighed and her smile was affectionately tolerant when she mumbled, "You don't understand, do you?"

Kyouya was unsure if he should feel offended by the softly-spoken accusation but only found bewilderment thrumming in his veins. In the end he settled for a faintly interested 'oh?'

"You rich people are so shallow," she said without any real malice and Kyouya's eyebrows rose at this supposed-to-be insult. "But Kaoru always knows better. I already received too much help from you guys and I simply couldn't have more for my father. I know you said money wasn't a problem," she quickly added when he was about to open his mouth. "And maybe it shouldn't be since we are friends after all. But it is a problem to me, Kyouya-senpai. It's a debt and I don't like being in debt. Kaoru understood and it was why he made that offer."

The last word rang a bell somewhere inside his head and he looked straight at the young woman. "So, an offer it is?"

"Yes," Haruhi declared, her gaze steadily holding his. "An offer."

So much for the engagement of the century, he thought to himself. Kyouya had never believed that it was love, but now that he had heard the dirty details from her own mouth, he couldn't say that he understood Haruhi's logic. Or Kaoru's in that matter. Or even Hikaru's to let this happen. There were too many things here, too many underlying emotions and unspoken thoughts, and even Kyouya himself couldn't proclaim that he grasped a quarter of the whole picture.

He wanted to do something about it, to make sure that everything didn't go wrong, like he always had during their Host Club times. But at this moment, his brain refused to conjure even the simplest scheme, let alone one worthy to stand against Kaoru's shrewdness. Could be the side-effect of not eating right, he berated himself.

"Well, that is your life, I shall not interfere," he declared, but silently promised himself that he was going to find out as soon as possible. However, a sad smile on her face told him that it might be not as simple as that.

"You expect me to do the same, don't you?"

His hand almost, _almost _stopped in its mission to bring the cup of coffee to his mouth. He realized that this was the one reason which had always kept him from completely liking Haruhi. She was not only too sharp, too shrewd to miss any undertone, but also too blunt to hesitate stabbing someone in the very spot most sensitive to them. Almost like Kaoru.

They would certainly be a fearsome pair, he reflected dryly. Then again, it might be good for them both.

"True, that is _your _life, Kyouya-senpai," she suddenly spoke again, her voice gaining its firm quality back, "but I cannot promise you anything. We are a family, aren't we? And in a family, we're supposed to help one another."

The memories came unbidden to his mind at the mentioning of family. The game they used to play – one big, twisted, nevertheless happy family. He ignored the little tug in his chest and turned his attention toward the window that overlooked the hospital's garden instead.

"The bond is broken," Kyouya murmured, taking little heed that his voice had lost its imperturbable timbre. It sounded thin and weak, especially in this sunlit room.

"Not too late if you want to repair it," she replied airily, like it was an easy thing to do. "That is what you do in this place, right? Repairing, mending, so no one should cry over their loved ones."

His mind immediately turned to the despicable pile of applications on his desk. Kyouya looked at his companion and made a mental calculation. Haruhi was raised as a commoner. She was no stranger to poverty and had just faced a similar situation with his father's illness. While none of the applicants could possibly employ the same method she had, she might be able to give him more insight in this matter.

Kyouya decided to give it a try. "Haruhi," he began, his tone light but cautious, "if someone comes for your help and you don't have the money to help him, what will you do?"

She seemed surprised by this abrupt change of topic but followed his lead without protest. "Is he a good person?" she asked.

"Assuming so?"

"Then I'll help him make enough money," she answered without a moment's hesitation. "There are angels in this world who know better than anyone how poverty feels. I've met some of them myself. But on the other hand, there are also a plenty of rich people. Maybe not all of them will care, but I'm sure there will be some who are willing to lend a hand." She paused and then suddenly grinned. "There must be something I can do to help him. What is the use of having so many rich friends and a rich fiancé anyway?"

"Indeed," he remarked dryly which only served to widen her grin.

To ask for help. The idea had never crossed his mind. In fact, it could be said that one of the top tens in Kyouya's list of 'no, no, and once again NO' was to ask for help. He had come so far without anyone's help. To go against his policy now for something like this was completely absurd. Ridiculous.

But he still remembered that helpless feeling back in his office – how his body trembled with anger at his own incapability. He could do nothing, only silently watching his hands slowly but surely being soaked in blood. And Kyouya liked to win.

"Is that one of the things on your list, Kyouya-senpai?"

Once again he was forced to admit the prowess of her inner eyes. "You don't miss a thing, do you?" he wondered half to himself.

"I like to watch."

Kyouya smirked but didn't pursue the subject and said instead, "I may give you a call in a few days. Do you think you can drag your fiancé and his brother along if you come out to meet me?"

Haruhi's smile was small but clearly saying that she was satisfied. "I can give it a try."

They said their farewells after that mainly because Haruhi had to return to her workplace. She had just begun an internship in one of the most prestigious law firms in town and despite the Hitachiin being the biggest client of the firm, she was treated no differently from the other junior associates. Kyouya watched her leave, noticing her well-worn bag and dress, and amused himself for a moment with speculations when Kaoru would finally insist to replace them with something more fashionable. That would definitely be a show worth watching.

But for now, he had a plan to develop.

"Is that Fujioka Haruhi?"

He almost jumped from his seat when his father's stern monotone echoed in the room. The older Ootori was standing in front of the connecting door leading to another private chamber, his expression as inscrutable as usual. Kyouya inwardly scolded himself for letting his guard down but rearranged his composure quickly.

"Yes, Father."

"A very exceptional young woman," the older man murmured without turning his gaze from the opened door left behind by Haruhi.

Unsure of the direction this conversation was taking, Kyouya stayed silent. He had the same odd feeling with the one he had felt when his father was about to tell him about his engagement – and his appointment as the family's successor. His manner had been quick, straightforward, almost abrupt, and Kyouya had been left nursing a painful pounding in his chest after the announcement as the memory of Tamaki's cheerless smile floated in his mind.

For his father, marriage was business. He didn't recall if there was any love at all between his parents. His mother was a beautiful woman, the first daughter of a rich, powerful family, just as Fujieda Ageha was. He wondered if they would end up just like his parents in a few years, living oceans apart after she had dutifully given him an heir. Even now, her affinity to London was already evident.

"It is unfortunate that she is already engaged to one of the Hitachiin brothers," his father observed, still with the same deep monotone, and Kyouya felt like his heart had suddenly stopped beating.

"What do you mean, Father?" he inquired, his voice coming out a little too thin than he would have preferred.

The older Ootori finally turned to his heir, dark eyes looking at him from behind thick gleaming lenses. "It was once my intention to have her as a daughter-in-law," he elaborated flatly but not without a touch of deep-rooted disappointment.

"Oh." His stomach clenched at this, but Kyouya opted to put the blame on his carelessness for taking a strong coffee with an empty stomach. Although it probably didn't quite explain why his voice wavered slightly afterward. "You mean, you didn't mind her lack of status at all?"

"She can see you," his father declared, back already half-turned toward him, "for who you are, not only what you are. It is a very important quality for a wife."

Kyouya almost said, "Tamaki understands me better than anyone else."

But he didn't.

**End Chapter Four**

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**A/N2:** Oh, Kyouya...


	5. Chapter 5

**Harbour**

**Author: Atthla**

**Diclaimer** and **Warning** are in chapter one.

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**Chapter Five: Rise and Fall**

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Haruhi didn't think that she had ever been trapped in a more uncomfortable situation.

It was Sunday afternoon and the restaurant painted a busy but high-classed picture with its well-dressed patrons and mellow decorations. Waiters and waitresses in dainty black suits flurried around quietly, ready to provide any kind of service wished by the guests. Unfortunately, she reflected, these goings-on lay at the other side of the door while she was here, shut inside a private chamber with her friends. Such occasion might be perfectly all right a few months ago, but now, with none of her companies speaking or smiling, it was pure torture.

The atmosphere inside the room could only be described as hostile. There were others like her who felt merely uncomfortable – Honey-senpai, and possibly Mori-senpai although the slight frown on his face didn't say much – but the rest were busy holding a glaring contest with each other across the circular table they were sitting around. Hikaru was the closest to a winner with his angry blazing eyes and equally angry features – Haruhi remembered that the only time she had ever seen him that angry was when he had heard about but Kyouya-senpai's engagement. Kaoru's expression, a little thoughtful after what had just been proposed to them, was not as fierce as his twin's, but Kyouya-senpai with smouldering ice in sharp brown eyes proved to be a serious challenge to the older Hitachiin.

She had dreaded this since they had stepped into the restaurant. Getting Hikaru and Kaoru there was one thing, but to expect that they would be happy meeting Kyouya-senpai was a little too far-fetched. As the only buffer in the room, she had been enormously relieved when Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai had arrived. However, Honey-senpai had quickly and astonishingly quieted down after a perfunctory greeting, which once again left the room in painful silence. Haruhi had started to wonder if Kyouya-senpai had actually dared to invite their only missing member when he suddenly spoke up.

His presentation had been brief but clear. He intended to create a fund which purpose was to help impoverished people who were in need of immediate and crucial medical attention financially, and he couldn't do it alone. The plan was neat and meticulous, which was to be expected from Kyouya-senpai, the greatest plotter she had ever known. It even involved her and made use of her position as an associate in the most prominent law firm in town. She was not invited to be a mere spectator, but as one of the team players. She was there not only as a friend, but also a lawyer who could oversee every legal procedure which would ensue after a certain agreement was reached.

It made her want to smile. Despite his polished, icy exterior, Kyouya-senpai was not a heartless bastard he had always presented him to be. He paid attention to small things like this, and he did it without allowing others to notice. Haruhi knew that she was one of the very few exceptions who actually noticed, but she appreciated it all the same.

Unfortunately, she seemed to be the only one who had a positive opinion on Kyouya-senpai right now. No one had said anything after the presentation and the tension in the room was so thick that it was enough to suffocate anyone in the vicinity. Luckily, Haruhi thought sarcastically, this was a private chamber, so should anything worse happen, there would only be six victims at most. Too bad one of them had to be her.

But before worrying about that, she should do something about this silence.

"So that's why, eh?"

It seemed that someone had decided to seize the task from her hand. Haruhi let out a quiet grateful sigh, but her momentary relief quickly dissipated when she noticed the vindictive look on Hikaru's face.

"I've been thinking what you actually want with us," he drawled, hostility nothing but evident, "but really, Kyouya-senpai, I never imagined that it would be for something so... altruistic."

The dangerous silence left after those words enveloped them like a heavy black curtain. Haruhi eyed the older twin warily before shifting her gaze to the dark-haired man who had just received the verbal slap. Kyouya-senpai did not show any reaction to the implied insult, which she knew very well would only aggravate Hikaru even more.

And of course she was right. Hikaru suddenly rose to his feet and put both of his palms on the table, leaning forward slightly toward Kyouya-senpai who was sitting opposite him. If anything, he looked even angrier than before.

"Tell me one thing, Kyouya-senpai," his voice came out harsh, almost like a snarl. "Is this about those people, or is this about you not wanting to see yourself helpless?"

Haruhi was almost certain that an all-out fight would break out when Kaoru reached out to touch his twin's hand. Like a spell breaking, anger dissolved quickly from Hikaru's eyes, leaving only cold resentment lingering behind golden irises.

It was not unexpected. After all, she knew what Kaoru really meant for Hikaru, but it still didn't alleviate the sudden pain erupting in her chest at the sight.

"Is it for real?" The younger Hitachiin asked, his tone not as aggressive as his brother but no less unfriendly.

Kyouya-senpai looked like he had just been asked if he was certain a cow couldn't jump over the moon. "Would I joke about something like this?"

There was a smile on Kaoru's face, but it was mirthless. "Who knows, Kyouya-senpai?" he said in what Haruhi knew to be mocking cheerfulness. "Your sense of humor has always been beyond us."

The temperature in the room had quickly dropped again to a freezing zone. Kaoru, she realized with a wince, apparently was no better than Hikaru. He only used a subtler method and in this case, silent thrusts could wound as much as an open insult if not more, because it was Kyouya-senpai who stood at the receiving end.

With the silence, it only got worse. She could find nothing to crack the ice, and even Honey-senpai only sat stoically without a word. It made her wonder if Mori-senpai's gloomy personality had finally rubbed off to his smaller friend.

"Sorry I'm late, everyone."

She heard Hikaru's sharp intake of breath and saw Kaoru narrowing his eyes when the familiar voice echoed in the room. At the door stood the last person she could expect to be there and he strode in like nothing, except his lateness, had happened. Kyouya-senpai seemed to be the only person who was not shocked by this apparition – even Mori-senpai dropped his jaw a little.

"I had a meeting I couldn't cancel," Tamaki-senpai spoke again, using a complaining tone that painfully reminded Haruhi to their Host Club years. "And this is Sunday, imagine that. Well, what are we discussing here?"

"A fund to help impoverished people who need certain medical aids like surgery."

The jovial mask quite simply cracked at the sound of Kyouya-senpai's voice. Bits of emotions – longing, uncertainty, misery – poured out from the single fracture, but not the smallest trace of hate. That was the amazing thing about Tamaki-senpai, Haruhi reflected with a tiny pang in her heart. He could never hate someone he loved, not even when that someone had deeply wounded him.

"A fund?" There was a slight tremor in his voice, but he had recovered enough to plaster another smile onto his face.

Kyouya-senpai proceeded to explain in the same impersonal manner he had just done to all of them, completely ignoring the incredulous looks he was getting from all directions. He was the better actor compared to Tamaki who repeatedly bit his lips to suppress his emotions, but the utter formality of his voice told Haruhi that he wasn't as unaffected as he seemed.

This wasn't the first time she had thought 'why must it be this way' and she was sure it wouldn't be her last. Kyouya-senpai's proud stubbornness and Tamaki-senpai's firm persistence would make sure of that. She glanced to her left, noting the identical frown the twins were wearing, and silently prayed that they wouldn't attempt anything which might worsen the situation. As much as she wanted things to change, their plans had a tendency to bloom into calamities rather than useful support.

But looking at them like that, pretending as if there never existed a deep passionate love between them was painful. Because their eyes, their body language spoke differently. Haruhi thought of herself and the role she played for – and ironically _between_ – the twins, and couldn't decide which was better.

Tamaki-senpai looked thoughtful after Kyouya-senpai had finished his explanation. Knowing the former Host Club King, he should start spewing nonsense in a second, but the look on his face remained solemn.

"That's a nice plan," he said slowly and Haruhi realized that this was Suoh Tamaki dealing with business, not some idiotic Host Club games. "But I want to know how we can sort out the people. You don't plan to use a detective or something to investigate them all, do you?"

For a moment, it looked like Kyouya-senpai was about to snort like he often had done every time Tamaki-senpai said something stupid, but the expression cleared from his face quickly. "The degree of illness will be the most defining factor in making the priority list," he answered calmly. "Medical diagnoses will be made by doctors who have agreed to join the program. Investigations to each applicant's financial background are of course imperative, but my family's private investigators will be able to handle them well. As for the person to sort them out, I will take the role for the time being until I've trained several candidates who not only have extensive knowledge in medicine, but also know how to to organize well."

"So we only have to make a monthly donation to the fund?"

"There will be reports sent to you, of course," Kyouya-senpai's reply was sharp, "and annual meetings to discuss results and possible improvements. This is a professional organization after all."

There was a moment of breathless silence, during which Haruhi feared that one – or maybe both – of them had finally broken under pressure and snapped. But on Kyouya-senpai's face was only his usual cool composure and Tamaki-senpai did nothing more drastic than a nod.

"I think it's great," he said, his voice a little tremulous but calm enough. "All right, I'll join in. I can help with publicity too if you want."

For the first time, uncertainty crept into Kyouya-senpai's voice. "Publicity?"

Tamaki-senpai nodded again, more excitedly this time. "Yes. I know your doctors will advise patients who cannot pay to submit an application to the program and words will eventually get around, but if we can get there faster, why not? Hikaru can handle the newspaper and I have some influence on the television. Oh, and medical journals too. Who knows if other doctors want to join? We can split some of these tasks."

Before Kyouya-senpai could response, he had already launched into another train of ideas. "And what about people from remote areas? Tokyo does have the best hospitals but not everyone will check up their illness here. There should be doctors in those areas too. And what if the sick person cannot travel far? Or what if he can't pay the transportation fee? Don't you think we should be able to organize everything once we accept an applicant?"

A very familiar expression flitted across Kyouya-senpai's face. Haruhi remembered that he used to make the same face every time Tamaki-senpai had gotten carried away with his infinite, often ridiculous ideas.

"It isn't as easy as it sounds," he pointed out matter-of-factly, but this only earned him a little smile from Tamaki-senpai.

"I know. That's why we have to try hard, right?"

Another familiar expression appeared – this one gentler but raw, like it had been wrenched out of him from a secret safe stored deep within his heart, unseen and should-be-untouched. Haruhi was forced to hide a smile. With the rate this was going, she wouldn't be surprised if Tamaki-senpai would come out as the winner in the end, his lack of self-possession notwithstanding.

Meanwhile the blonde had started on another plan. "Listen, Kyouya, we should get others to join. With the right publication, it should be easy. I'm sure I'm not the only one with so much spare money lying around. I have no idea what to do with them and isn't it better to spend them for something like this?"

"It's a wonderful idea, Tama-chan!" Suddenly Honey-senpai exclaimed, eyes glittering like he had just seen a tableful of cake. "My cousins and friends will want to contribute!"

"Right?" His smile was brilliant. "That way we can collect more money to help more people. Maybe we'll even have enough funds to build a new hospital somewhere remote. Oh, and we can provide scholarships for medical schools too. The graduate will have to participate in this program and…"

Ignoring Tamaki-senpai's ranting, Kyouya-senpai brought a hand to his temple, a gesture Haruhi had only seen only too often. The edges of his lips were quivering slightly and she was willing to bet her entire career that it was a smile being suppressed. The tension, she realized with a touch of astonishment, had disappeared.

"So we're doing this, everyone?" The blonde got to his feet and looked around the table.

"Of course!" Honey-senpai was nodding eagerly. A more subdued one from Mori-senpai confirmed his choice.

Hikaru was not smiling, but she could sense that under his mask of displeasure, he was utterly at lost with this development. His voice however, was still colder that she would have preferred when he answered, "I will join the plan. If they need help, then they need help. Kaoru?"

The younger twin leant back to his chair, his eyes flickering toward Kyouya-senpai and away again so fast that Haruhi wondered if she was imagining it. In the end he chuckled and put his hand on top of his brother's. "Why not? Maybe I can organize a fashion show or two as a fundraiser."

"A great idea!" Tamaki-senpai agreed. "I always know you're smarter than you look, Kaoru!"

A strange look settled briefly on Kaoru's face, a crisscross of a wry smile and unwilling resignation. "That should be you, milord," he said and his voice was soft, softer than Haruhi had ever heard in public.

She wanted to cry.

–

Kyouya was tired. Dealing with his friends nowadays wearied him out more than a triple marathon would, especially with his current eating problem, but he knew that he should not complain following the current turn of events. That his idea would be accepted so enthusiastically was beyond his wildest expectation. Getting himself to do this alone already required so much courage that he hadn't dared to hope for anything. Not with Hikaru and Kaoru in the picture.

But Tamaki. Tamaki.

Kyouya inhaled sharply, demanding himself to stay calm before realizing that he couldn't stop the slight tremor that ran through his body. Seeing his former lover again after almost two months wrecked him more than he had anticipated. Tamaki always looked good but the moment he had appeared on the doorstep, Kyouya had stifled a sob.

He knew it would be hard. He just didn't expect that it would be this hard.

How he had managed not to break down completely was beyond his comprehension. But, he closed his eyes to block out the pain, it had been close. Too close. Tamaki's presence had made him defensive and he knew that it had shown in everything he did – colder, stiffer, brusquer. The other man must have been equally affected if not more, but Kyouya had learnt not to look into his eyes. Maybe that was how he had managed.

Tamaki. Gods, Tamaki.

"Kyouya-san?"

Kyouya grimaced. _Great._ He was thinking about an ex-lover in the company of his fiancée. Again. As much as he wanted to blame his inattentiveness to exhaustion and her untimely visit, this was really getting out of line.

And how could he just slip off like that? Usually he could maintain a track on what his interlocutor was saying, even when most of his attention was held prisoner by other subjects. That this one occasion was different didn't surprise him, but it definitely vexed him.

"Forgive me," he apologized to his fiancée but did not offer an explanation. "You were saying?"

Sitting in a very correct position next to him, Fujieda Ageha displayed a small timid smile which for some reason only made him feel worse. "About my wedding gown, I wonder if I can have your help," she said politely and Kyouya had a strange wish that he was engaged to a more… violent woman. Someone more evil – but preferably not quite on par with his cunningness – or maybe someone who hated him and wasn't reluctant to say so. That way, he could hurt her without feeling the slightest bit guilty.

But those eyes didn't hate him, as much as he hoped for the otherwise. In fact, he realized with a sinking feeling, they were trying very hard to love him, trying to make this loveless arrangement work despite everything. That was the worst part about her and against this wholehearted, honest determination, Kyouya felt utterly powerless.

She was the worst kind of fiancée he could ever have. Kyouya wondered if this was a part of his father's plan – this weakness, used against him without the smallest hesitation – and felt the old anger stir. Because if it was true… if this was how his father treated his son and heir…

Kyouya cleared his throat, banishing the thought from his mind when he felt her eyes on him again. "Your wedding gown?" he repeated.

"Yes. My mother told me that at this summer bridal show in Paris, there was a very beautiful dress designed by one of your friends. Hitachiin Kaoru-sama, if I am not mistaken?"

"Kaoru," he deadpanned, picturing that cold smile behind his eyes, and suppressed an urge to massage his temple. This was getting better and better.

Her smile withered as if she had sensed his uneasiness, but she went on. "Yes. Wasn't he present at our engagement party?"

Kyouya could almost hear the gods laughing down at him. "So you want him to design your wedding dress?" he asked with forced calmness which sounded so fake that he was amazed Ageha had not noticed it.

"If he is willing of course," she said softly.

That was exactly the problem, Kyouya thought bitterly but only said, "I'm afraid I will have to ask him first. Someone like him must be quite busy."

"I understand," she smiled and an uncomfortable mishmash of emotions swept him. There had been a time when he and Kaoru were so close that this kind of request would hardly matter. A former member – or even patron – of the Host Club would find it strange to hear him say so, but luckily for him, Ageha was neither.

They descended into an awkward silence and for once, Kyouya was truly at a loss on how to proceed. A carefully-planned list of topics he had reserved specifically to deal with his new fiancée seemed to have disappeared without a trace. Meeting with Tamaki was bad enough, but this request from Ageha really sent him tumbling over the cliff.

Kyouya hated this, hated how he had become. Weak. Easily swayed by emotions. Helpless.

That was why when a train of polite knocks broke the silence, he felt immensely relieved. Kyouya could not remember the last time he was so glad to see the impassive face of his family butler.

"Young Master, pardon me for interrupting, but there is phone call for you."

Murmuring a vague excuse to his fiancée, he stood up and departed to receive the call in another room. His butler would only interrupt his time with a guest for two people, his father or his mother. Seeing how the latter seemed to have forgotten that she still had four children in Japan, it should be from the former. Still, either way, he preferred not to hold any kind of conversation which might cast a darker light onto him in front of her, not when they had yet to be husband-and-wife.

So when his father's gruff voice answered to his careful greeting, he had been appropriately armed with speculations on the subject of the call.

"Kyouya, about your meeting with Ashiwara Daisuke from Centrist Inc. tomorrow night, tell your secretary to reschedule."

"Reschedule, Father?" he repeated, not allowing a hint of confusion to seep into his voice. Rescheduling was not unusual, but considering that the deal they were making with Centrist Inc. was reaching its closing stage, it _was_ unusual.

"The night after should be fine. I want you to go with me tomorrow night to a business dinner."

Kyouya was about to make an obligatory response when his father added.

"With the Suou family."

**End Chapter Five**

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**A/N2:** This is fun XD

Thank you for everyone who has reviewed the last chapter. I hope this one is enough to satisfy you a little before we get to the next, which is of course, _the_ dinner. I do love torturing Kyouya…

By the way, does anyone know the name of Tamaki's father and Kyouya's father?


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